The Amateur Cracksman

"No," said I, finding a full voice as I shook my head; "no, I won't smoke, and I won't sit down, thank you. Nor will you ask me to do either when you've heard what I have to say." "Really?" said he, lighting his own cigarette with one clear blue eye upon me. "How do you know?" "Because you'll probably show me the door," I cried bitterly; "and you will be justified in doing it! But it's no use beating about the bush.